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“Good. I’ll have a contract drawn up and this place will be yours upon arrival back into the UK. Meet me back here tomorrow at 4pm? We can go over the paperwork then.” Stavros suggested.
Rubbing his hands together and looking like a child on Christmas morning, Kai chuckled, “It’s perfect. Thank you.”
Stavros shook Kai’s hand and then lightly grazed his lips across Myla’s cheek before leaning into Avery’s ear and whispered something that caused her eyes to light up and a girly chuckle to slip through her open mouth. “Myla, I’ll see you later. Stavros is taking me out to dinner, nice to meet you Kai, I’ll be seeing you soon.” Avery blew him a kiss and began her descent down the stairs with Stavros following closely behind.
A thick silence hung in the air when the door slammed shut and Myla found herself alone with Kai. “I’m sorry about my rant,” she started through a barely audible whisper.
“It’s cool, this
is an arrangement of sorts between us, I help you and you help me. It doesn’t mean we have to get on away from the eyes of your family, right?” He asked with hope spearing its way through his body.
“Sure, it’s only for show,” she shrugged and slipped her damp feet back into her wet shoes.
“So, how did you pull this out of the bag? You do know I was praying you would fail finding a studio. You certainly knocked me sideways when you said you had one for me, and so quickly too,” he said. He stood rubbing his chin, his eyes bored her way.
“I’ll tell you on the way,” she muttered, looking away from him.
“On the way? On the way to where, exactly?” He asked with surprise laced in his tone.
“On the way to the jewelers of course! What does every fiancée need, Kai?”
“Oh Lord, no,” he muttered under his breath.
“Yes,” she grinned. “I need an engagement ring to go with my new-found fiancé, don’t I?” Myla headed to the stairwell, leaving Kai immobilized, looking like he had just been handed a death sentence.
CHAPTER TEN
“My car is just parked over there,” Kai said as he came to a standstill behind Myla in the doorway of the studio. She moved sideways to let him pass, inhaling sharply when his chest brushed against hers in the constricted space.
“Are you standing there all day, Myla?” he asked when he finally made it out on to the sidewalk.
“It’s raining,” she shrugged “I don’t have an umbrella.”
Throwing his hands up in the air, he looked at her exasperated while the rain pelted down on him, “The car is just there on the opposite side of the road, what do you want me to do? Turn the car around and collect you from this side of the road?”
Her lips forced a sneering smile, “That would be lovely, Thank you.”
“Are you serious?” he asked, astonished.
When she didn’t answer, he shook his head. “Maybe I should add diva to that list of things I dislike about you, Capulet,” he seethed, through gritted teeth as he turned and strode towards the car.
Climbing inside, he started the engine of his red Mondeo and revved the guts out of it, showing just how annoyed he really was, then spun it around to the other side of the road. Coming to a sudden stop on her side, he sat honking the horn continuously until she took up the seat next to him. “You are such a child,” she snapped, securing the seat belt around her.
“Where do you want me to drop you?” he asked speeding away from the curb, the force of which made Myla’s head veer back suddenly into the seat.
“Drop me? Oh, I don’t think so. You’re coming with me to get this ring, after all you are my fiancé,” she said smugly. “Head towards Brampton Road.”
“Brampton Road? There are no jewelers on Brampton Road,” he replied. He gripped the steering wheel tighter and slammed his way through the gears.
“Will you be questioning everything I say, Kai? I can see this will become monotonous,” she replied haughtily. She ran a hand over her hair trying to rid it of droplets of rain.
“Isn’t that what couples do? Question each other and then do the opposite of what the other wants?” he challenged. He indicated to turn right, cutting up a car in the process.
“My god, you could really do with learning to drive again, you’re a terrible driver! Cutting up cars, crunching through the gears, I’m surprise—”
Slamming on the brakes sharply, Myla jolted forward, only to be forcefully slammed back into the seat because of the seatbelt. Before she had chance to turn and reprimand him any further, he had unbuckled his own belt, jumped from the car, and marched around to her side. Yanking the door open, he ordered for her to get out of the car. Unclipping her belt, she grabbed her purse and climbed out, meeting him on the sidewalk. Defiantly, she glared at him as she held his heated gaze.
“You think you can drive any better? Be my guest,” he challenged. He pushed Myla out of the way and took up residence in her now, vacant seat. Slamming the door behind him, he pushed the button down locking himself in the passenger side.
